


It's For Lovers (OrJustFriends)

by noneya (t_in_tranquility)



Category: Panic! at the Disco
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-04
Updated: 2016-09-04
Packaged: 2018-08-12 18:29:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7944811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/t_in_tranquility/pseuds/noneya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was for lovers, the way we spoke, touched, loved. But we were just friends.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's For Lovers (OrJustFriends)

  Lightning is destructive, it strikes without consideration or consent. It is unforgiving in its swift movement, not caring what is in its passage way, or for that matter, who.

  Fire on the other hand, it is devastating. It demolishes everything it touches, scorching it into ashes. Fire is relentless, it will fight to destroy until the last ember has died out.

  When you combine the two, lightning and fire, obliteration is the only outcome.

* * *

  Naïve am I to the human condition.

  My blood drowns in alcohol and the flames from the addictive drink lick at my throat. The half empty bottle of whiskey mocks me from afar, tempting me with the ability to forget. Maybe even forgive. Forget the way his eyes shone in the midnight moonlight, forgive the way he left me standing underneath the vast galaxy, just the moon and I.

  I reach for the bottle, the warmth of the Devil's water spreads throughout my hallow chest. I have missed that feeling, the warm buzz that settles in my veins, though it never was alcohol I chased to achieve the feeling. It was a boy with dark hair and eyes to match with a laugh brighter than the sun, moon, and all the stars combined. Part of me is ready to leave this claustrophobic town, it is no longer big enough for our two lost souls to wander about. The streets would miss him, but no one would notice if my skeleton found another lifeline. He surely wouldn't care, so why do I?

  The sun is falling behind the horizon and I trace the last rays of light. He always loved the sunset. A small smile dares to creep across my mouth at the memory:

  _We sit underneath the drunken willow tree, hidden away from the rest of the world because we have made our own. He suddenly looks up from the book he's been reading aloud and gasps, "Ryan!"_

_At his abrupt exclamation my fingers slip from the chord I've been strumming, and I ask in confusion a simple, "What?"_

_The boy scrambles to his feet as quickly as possible and snatches my hand away from the tattered guitar and pulls me to my feet. I stumble slightly on the uneven ground and tree roots as he drags me out of the confines we call ours. We burst out of the hanging leaves and my breath catches in my throat. The scene before me is unlike any other, the sky is alive with a passion. The sun is falling below the western horizon, painting colors in the sky unknown to man. Fiery red and orange hues are mixed with soft blues and pastel pinks, and what should be the epitome of chaos is the exemplar of beauty._

_We stand there, motionless and unblinking, scared to miss even a second of this rarity, but I am still acutely aware of my hand still in his._

_I memorize the moment, the way the gentle breeze cards through my bronzed wavy locks, the way the air kisses my cheeks with it's cool lips, the way Brendon subconsciously runs his thumb over my knuckles. We stand in complete silence until the last ray of light fades away into the starry night. I observe how this quiet is different, it is calming and tranquil. With him, everything is._

_"That was-" he starts, eyes still locked somewhere far ahead of us two. "I have no words for what that was."_

_I nod absently, for not even I can conjure a word to describe what the two of us had just experienced._

_"Thank you, Ryan," he says quietly, as if not to disturb the peace._

_I turn my head to him in slight confusion, "For what?"_

_He looks down toward the ground, or maybe at our conjoined hands. He doesn't pull it back, he is aware. Something in my stomach tightens and suddenly it is harder to breathe. "For watching the sunset with me."_

_A smile I can't contain appears on my lips, "I couldn't  possibly think of anywhere else I'd rather be."_

 The past haunts me. Memories of what was and what could've been terrorize me, leave me gasping for sanity. I get up from where I had been seated, and the world turns violently due to my intoxicated mind, threatening to floor me. The build up of alcohol turns in my stomach, charring my muddy insides. I push away the physical pain and fight to rid the emotional as I reach the blacked out curtains, yanking them shut. I prefer moonshine to sunshine.

\--

  I claim the ungodly hours of the night, where everything is either sleeping or dead. The four walls surrounding me lean into listen to my woes and fabricated tales of a boy I used to know. They know my secrets, the darkest ones that plague my mind and decapitate my heart. The four walls hide me away from the universe where I know I will never be found, and for that I owe them my life. Figuratively and literally.

  The gun is fully loaded with a bullet for each time I've left my life in ruins. My shaking hand reaches for it slowly as I try to calm my breathing. The metal is cool against my burning skin, and the weight of the object provides some sort of concrete reality for me. I clutch the object to my chest and try to think clearly. Beads of sweat form at my hairline, with matted waves stuck to my slick forehead. A hellish sob rips through my frail frame as the insurmountable pain consumes me from the inside out. The thoughts ravage through every realm of my tainted mind.

  I attempt to take in a deep breath through a constricted throat but end up choking on a substantial amount of tears. My trembling finger finds the trigger as i raise the gun from my chest to my mouth. I place it inside and bite down on it in a futile attempt to muffle my cries. The thoughts come horrendously fast, even in my most reclusive, secluded times, he finds me. I close my eyes, three, two-

   _We find ourselves on the edge of the withering wooden bridge, watching the dark waters move swiftly into a rapid current below us. The moonlight douses his frame in a soft illumination, giving his beige skin a subtle glow. There isn't a single soul in sight, just the two of us underneath the vast galaxy of stars and planets, and the only word that comes to mind to explain what I am feeling is, 'luck'. Here he is, this unique,special person whom no one could ever compare to, sitting in the dead of night on an ancient bridge, with me of all people. Definitely luck._

_Brendon swings his feet casually through the air, as if the slightest wrong move wouldn't send him into the unforgiving river. My stomach drops at the image of him falling through the air helplessly, hitting the water, and the current washing him away with a vengeance, but my stomach turns at what is sure to be my immediate reaction._

_"Bren, would you stop?"_

_He looks at me curiously, "Why?"_

_I shrug nonchalantly, trying to word my concern correctly. "I don't know, I mean, uh-" His eyebrows raise to his hairline and he continues with his idiotic motions as he waits for my prolonged answer. "You could fall in doing that, resulting in me having to jump in after you," I mumble, carding through my hair nervously. "And I don't really want to get wet, and I don't like the water, and my hair would-"_

_"Done yet?" he asks curtly, interrupting me._

_"What I mean is," I take in an even breath, "You're my best friend and if something were to happen to you..."_

_He doesn't look at me when he kicks absentmindedly into the night once more before coming to a stop, instead his focus is on the rapids. I cannot take my eyes off of him, the thought of something ever harming him, of Brendon ever getting hurt, is enough to drive me insane._

_I slowly scoot myself closer to him, inch by inch, closing the empty space between us. My sweating hands are tight on the splintering plank that holds us up. He doesn't shy away from the sudden lack of personal space, and when I wipe my clammy right hand off on the leg of my dingy pants and grab his cold limp left hand, he doesn't object. Yet, he still doesn't look at me._

_The heat from his body radiates through every cell that I own, warmth floods my veins, and suddenly he surrounds my brain. I intertwine our fingers with leisure as I try to find words to speak._

_"Ry?" he peeps delicately._

_"Bren?"_

_A soft chuckle escapes his lips but a smile doesn't form on his mouth. A pit forms in my stomach._

_"Do you think that someone could survive this fall?" he asks, almost in a whisper._

_Worry washes over my like a tidal wave, and my grip tightens on his hand. If he goes, I'm going with him. I clear my throat, "Brendon, no, I don't think that someone could survive this fall."_

_"What if they jumped?" he says, eyes still on the water beneath us._

_"C'mon," I say, pulling on his hand, urgent to get him off the ledge and back to safety. "We're leaving."_

_I start to move my leg over the side, attempt at security with no avail. He doesn't move a single muscle._

_"Ryan, I want to tell you something."_

_"Tell me once we're back on the ground, just get off the edge, damnit." I say now desperate to get him off the bridge._

_He looks up at me after what seems to have been an eternity of me attempting to move him and him not moving at all, a stalemate. I take in his reddened, slightly swollen eyes with remnants of tears still lingering on his rosy cheeks. For the first time, I realize he had been crying._

_"Brendon, what's wrong?" I ask, alarmed and needing immediate answers._

_He doesn't break eye contact, he stares deep into my eyes and tightens his grip on my hand. He sniffles as another tear escapes the confines of the brim of his eye, and before I can react, his hot mouth and pillowy lips are hungrily crashing onto mine._

_All the air leaves my lungs, and all feeling leaves my body._

_I can't think._

_My legs are reminiscent to jello._

_I can't feel my heartbeat but I can hear it._

_My stomach tingles and jolts of electricity run up and down my spine._

_Breathe, fuck._

_I break the kiss, or whatever that was, and tear my hand away from his. My breaths come in painfully irregular, and I stare at him in horror and fascination. My eyes find his shell pink lips and my stomach flips. I can feel his gaze on me, the tension in the brisk air palpable._

_He takes in a sharp gasp, "I'm so sorry. Ryan, oh god." He covers his mouth as the tears fall down his face so fast and vigorously that the rapids would be envious. My blood boils beneath my skin, the hair on the back of my neck is on a stand still, and goosebumps adorn my arms and legs. A shiver runs throughout my body, but not from the cool breeze._

_I am still trying to recover from what left me shaken to my core, my best friend, his lips, my lips._

_He kissed me, I think I kissed back._

_He is sitting next to me, us two still on the ledge and it dawns on me that he's still crying. Brendon needs me and I would have to be dead for me not to do something about that._

_"Hey," I say softly, reaching out to touch his bony shoulder, He jerks away from my touch and I recoil just as fast as he did. "Bren, what is wrong? Please, tell me."_

_"I can't, that's the thing," he chokes through cries._

_I reach out to grab his hand and before he can pull it away from my grasp I interlock our fingers, pushing away any hesitancy and shame that comes with a stolen kiss. He needs me. "Tell me," I say firmly._

_He looks at me with bloodshot eyes, his countenance perfectly unreadable. He is so beautiful even when he is crumbling before me. "I can't."_

_He refuses to tell me, and for now, I am okay with that. He is composing himself from his sorrows and all I can do is bring the sad boy into my arms and hold him tight in my embrace. His head falls onto my shoulder and he nuzzles his face into the crook of my neck. We sit in complete silence because we do not need to communicate with words. I feel the tension roll off of him in waves and dissipate into the obscure oblivion surrounding us._

_"How about we get down from here?" I offer quietly. He only nods slightly and escapes my hold. I help him down from where we had been sitting, where our lips were locked, where I saw my life before my eyes and nothing made sense but at the same time everything was clearer than a crystal. I am soon to follow, and we walk back to where we came from, wordless, and hand in hand._

I gasp for air, yanking the death wish out of my mouth. My chest feels like it has been torn to shreds and I am physically sick with grief. The tears wont stop, the pain never subsides. The gun falls on the ground, I never have the strength to follow through. I am never brave enough to end my misery because that is where I thrive. Would he care if one day the news got around that the good-for-nothing Ross boy finally offed himself? Would he spill his guts on the floor below him and confess the love he felt for me, or would he shove me away in the closet with the rest of his skeletons and move on with his life.

  Probably the latter.


End file.
